Marika Thompson is a senior at Clark

Marika Thompson, Contributing Writer

What do you want from me?

What do you want me to do?

I’m Black, I AM,

And I’m here. We’re here and we’re not going anywhere,

So why batter and bruise me because I’m different.

Yes slavery happened, yes they lynched me, and they whipped me.

Now they keep penetrating my skin with their ignorance.

You’re disregarding me

How can you ignore something that surrounds you.

I can’t give you what you want.

I’m Black, I can’t change that, nor do I want to.

I love the melanin in my skin.

How can you not see its Beauty.

You don’t see the heart that beats irrevocably for you, the ones who tore me into many unstable pieces that can’t quite mesh themselves together because no matter how much I try to be a part of you and give you parts of me, I some how am not enough for you. And some how everything that I am is what seems to be wrong with the world.

I just want you to see me, but you can’t, or maybe you just don’t want to and that’s ok. I can’t make you love me. I know what you see.

You see something that’s NOT

But I see Beauty

You don’t see me

and I don’t know how to make you see, so I hope and pray that everything’s going to be ok.

I internalize these feelings and hold them close in hopes that you’ll change your minds and see things my way, but you don’t and so I isolate myself from you. Not physically but mentally. I don’t want to separate myself, but I do as a way to try and feel ok, but it’s not working.

I just want to fucking cry inside and scream out loud or scream inside and cry out loud. I don’t know. Anymore. I just don’t understand. Can you please help me to understand why you dislike me? I did nothing to you, but love you, but you do nothing, but hurt me unconsciously and subconsciously, but I can’t blame you for what your ancestors did to mine.

But could you at least try and help to get rid of the illusion that my being Black is BAD, A Danger

I just wish you knew what it’s like to be reminded that I AM Black every time I wake up till I go to bed

I wish you knew how much it hurt to feel the whip my ancestors endured every day through your unwelcoming eyes and your piercing words.

We’re divided, separated by a blue wall that is constantly closing in on me. A wall that is stained with red from the blood of my people, the Black ones, the Niggers or Negros because we are supposedly a threat to you. But what’s the threat Black or blue.

I love the colour blue. It’s been my favourite colour since I was a little kid back in Barbados. I loved everything about the colour blue. It was my go to colour. There was so much beauty behind that colour, the sky, the sea, the ocean. We were like two peas in a pod. We were one. I never thought that it would turn its back on me. It was my friend and now it feels like the enemy.

I can’t trust the colour blue. I can’t trust the colour that keeps targeting me and killing me with its guns and nerve wracking footsteps. I guess now I should learn to love the colour red. I mean we’ve been getting pretty close lately.

It doesn’t comfort me.

It’s not comforting or warming to think of the colour red.

It hurts me mentally and physically to think of this colour because that’s all I see when I look at my family and people who look like me. This is all I see when I think of the ones I held close but can’t anymore because the colour blue betrayed me.

It’s funny isn’t it? That you can be so close to something and it can suddenly abandon you as if you were never close to begin with.

I guess we have our differences, though we have so much history and so many memories that connect us.

I guess I became too different for the colour blue.


Yes I LOOK different,

My lips are big,

My nose is big, I have locks and tattoos, I’m gay, and I’m Black

So yes I’m different. I don’t belong to any one category. I don’t know where to place myself in a society that constantly needs to know everything about me.

Why can’t my different be beautiful?

Why can’t you embrace me for who I am?

A Black girl from the island of Barbados, who just so happens to be gay, with big lips, a big nose, locks and tattoos and just can’t help loving the colour blue.

I know I may be Black and you may be blue but can you please find your way back to me because I miss you.